Her Majesties Pleasure
by OmegaProtocol
Summary: It all began with Marge Dursley spending time at Her Majesties Pleasure.  Leaving Harry alone in a house with access to a Television probably wasn't one of Vernons' best ideas.  The-boy-who-does-the-impossible meets the Force.
1. It all began because of the Queen

Disclaimer: Don't own anything, as fanfiction indicates, I don't make anything out of it either.

AN: I'd just like to say, this is my first fan fiction - so I'm going to be editing the content with this chapter (in terms of AN/layout) a bit, so sorry if that irks anyone.

Moreover, can I just say, by no means am I any good at writing, but I enjoy beta reading, so this is really just an excuse to get the 6000 word count required to beta read. So please be gentle.

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><p>The ending credits and customary theme song blared out of the speakers of the family TV, cut short by a crackle-fizzle associated with the discharging of a cathode ray tube, one Harry Potter dropped the television remote with an owlish blink of his eyes.<p>

His jaw dropped open: morphing slowly into a subtle smirk, the flashing of his emerald green eyes, a plan of the most devious, delectable and delightful nature formed in his marauder addled brain.

It was on this day: by all other accounts, a very average day, that the future of the Wizarding world would be completely rewritten. It was on this day, that if anyone was paying attention to one very magical bird, they may have realised the doom that was about to befall them. For said phoenix tilted his majestic head, cackled in laughter in a very sing-song way, before un-majestically falling off his perch in mirth "flashing" to Merlin knows where in a wreath of fire.

As a Muggle raised child, one would think that Harry James Potter, would have witnessed the wonders of the Muggle entertainment industry. Those who know Harry Potter however would realise that he would be more readily seen wearing a pink tutu while simultaneously being held lovingly by the Dark Snake Tamer, than doing something as "dursleyish" as watching television, after all: "freaks" don't get to watch television.

Today however was one of those few times in his life, where he had free reign of 4 Privet Drive, a miracle in itself: borne out of the suffering of one Marge Dursley, currently enjoying time at Her Majesties Pleasure, for illegal dog breeding and organising a fighting ring. Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley had a "family day out" to court, to support the miserable woman, Harry personally wished there was still the option of hanging, but had to settle for having the house to himself.

Which is where we find our intrepid hero, still with the devilish grin plastered on his face. After all, It's not every day that a Marauder: second generation or otherwise, witnessed the wonders and delights of one George Lucas, and his "Force". It wasn't every day, that the boy-who-caused-varying-impossible-things-to-happen, learned about light-sabers, Sith, Jedi and death stars. Frankly it wasn't every day that the Phoenix of the greatest wizard in the world, fell off his perch in hysterics'. Sadly, for those who enjoyed a peaceful life, today was the last, in a very...very...long time.


	2. Princess Hedwig, and the Hero of Time

Disclaimer: Same as always

A/N: I'd just like to say, in this story Dumbledore isn't evil. He's just a bit grey, You'll find I tend to dislike how naive J.K was for a lot of her books (due to the fact she started out writing for the young teen then moved into young adult fiction later on, the flow was never quite right) That being said, in this Chapter, Harry is merely grieving, and people do strange and funny things while they are grieving. If Harry appears to be OOC then I'm going to chalk that up to the fact that I felt J.K killed all of Harrys interest in magic within one week of Hogwarts, I never did find that made sense, but maybe I'm projecting myself on him too much.

Finally, before my A/N becomes bigger than the chapter, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed and who put the story on their alert/fave list. It meant a lot to me considering how small the chapter was. I hope this meets your standards.

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><p>Soon to be 15 year old Harry Potter sat at his worn desk in the second bedroom of 4 Privet Drive, idly stroking the downy of his pet owl Hedwig. With his free hand, scratching a line into the wood of the desk with a pen. It was a conundrum.<p>

"How am I going to work this out Hedwig, Cedric is dead because of me, because _Dumbledore _the greatest Wizard of our century, the Headmaster and all round Overlord of our world, couldn't tell a death eater from his long time friend...OW...sorry girl." Sucking on the burgeoning pool of blood, sighing at his Familiar.

"You're right of course, I shouldn't get so worked up, I should just get _even_. Voldemort is clearly a danger to Dumbledore, to his power and control of the Wizarding world: all under the guise of the 'greater good' of course..."

Content that he had managed to stem the bleeding of his finger, Harry rose out of his chair and dragged his school trunk out from under his bed, which for once wasn't stashed in the cupboard under the stairs. After all, even the Dursleys' had the slightest bit of compassion...either that or they just didn't care anymore...it worked either way as far as Harry was concerned.

"I wonder if that George Lucas was a squib or something Hedwig, I mean the force is pretty much magic: in all living things, flowing through us. I wonder if that's how the killing curse manages to kill, maybe all living things have a little bit of magic in them, muggleborns popping up every-so-often due to the magic culminating after generations. It also explains how you hear about amazing feats of muggles...how they can lift a car to save their child or loved one... so I suppose the killing curse might work by stripping the victim of its force...its magic..."

Looking up from his rummage through his trunk, Harry turned to Hedwig with a quizzical expression, who in turn, wasn't paying a single bit of attention to her wizard, preening herself with a regal air she managed to pull off. Rolling his eyes and returning to his trunk, he gave a cheer followed by a "dunun dunun dunun dunun DUN DUN DUUN DUUUUUN" pulling out the book he was searching for, grinning at his owl, who seemed to roll her eyes at his childish behaviour.

"What? That game Dudley was playing looked great, you can be Princess Zelda, and I will be your Hero, Link..." Harry grinned, striking a pose "...ahh ok ok Hedwig stop!" flailing around with the book in his hand, trying to bat off his crazy owl.

Once he was sure Hedwig wasn't going to scratch his eyes out for being childish, he returned to his desk with a cheesy grin plastered on his face. Setting down the book, he grabbed his pen and some paper and began writing.

"Right Hedwig, let us see how much of the "Force" we can attest is magic, and which aspects of the force doesn't coincide with what we know about magic." Working the pen between his teeth for a moment or so, Harry started to put pen to paper, his faithful familiar overseeing his work.

Finishing with a flourish, Harry looked down at what he had spent the last..."_2 hours?_" doing, before standing up and shaking the pins and needles from his legs. Re-checking his clock, noticing that it was getting close to 6 pm he groaned and made his way down to the kitchen to begin making the Dursleys' their dinner. They may have been ignoring him, but they still expected him to pay for his keep after all.

The force seemed to be strong with Harry. The front door to number 4 Privet Drive opened to reveal his "family" as he finished plating up their food, quickly dumping the pans into the sink Harry slipped through into the living room as his Uncle came through the door leading to the hall. Jumping up the stairs two at a time, Harry re-entered his room sitting at the desk, stroking his finger-tips down Hedwigs breast soothingly.

Looking down at the sheet he had been working on, Harry began to voice out his findings to his familiar: 

"Okay Hedwig, the first thing is the Jedi 'Mind Trick', it seems to me to be some form of wandless compulsion charm. Obi-Wan says that it can only be used on people with 'weak will', but doesn't seem to really work on 'Force Users' so until I can experiment on different kinds of muggles, It's best to assume that the 'Mind Trick' will only work on muggles, and possibly squibs."

"The second easiest force power to identify could be the 'Force Grip' that Luke and Darth Vader used on both his lightsaber, and wreckage respectively. The use of it on a lightsaber could be a wandless Summoning charm, however when Darth Vader used the Force Grip to throw the wreckage at Luke, it seemed to be a mix of a controlled version of the Hover charm, or a variation of the Moblicorpus charm and the Banishing charm. Certainly something I need to look into, eh Girl?"

"Umm... there was the premonition and aura thing that Luke managed, along with his ability to do that awesome jump when he was fighting Vader, so maybe there's a way to use the force to heighten ones senses and body?"

"And then there's my two favourite force powers, 'Choke' and 'Lightning', I _so_ have to figure those out for the cool factor alone. I have no idea how magic can imitate these abilities though, I've never heard of a spell that can allow you to control lightning, or choke someone, and short of not getting ill as often and being able to heal faster, I don't know how magic could increase my body or senses."

Jumping onto his lumpy mattress, Harry graced his owl with a smile. "First things first Hedwig. I need to meditate, I need to find my 'Force', find my core. Jedi's seem to have control over their emotion, Sith seem to revel in it, either way it seems important. See you on the other side Girl, allons-y!" 

Perhaps it was fate, or some "force" of God (of magic or otherwise). Perhaps it really was the force, or it was the fervent belief Harry James Potter had that it _should _work which had caused it. Perhaps it was because it was the boy-who-lived-to-do-the-impossible, or perhaps it was as one Minnie McGonagall had once attributed to him, "Sheer dumb luck".

To which ever school of thought adhered to, the outcome was the same. Harry James Potter had managed to do the impossible once again, and had become proficient in occlumency. Not that he knew that of course, to him he had achieved what every other force user had before him, he had found the "force" and achieved the desired meditative state.

If one was to ask experts and scholars of the mind arts if it was possible to achieve a competent grasp of occlumency in one night, one may find themselves with a cushy room in a fine medical establishment such as St Mungo Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

After a saga-fest of epic proportions, perhaps it was expected that the universe of Star Wars took an active part in the occlumency defences and structure constructed by Harry. For example, Harry took on the vastness of the Star Wars universe: the technology, the ships, the planets and crafted it into what would be an impenetrable defence.

His thoughts and memories were given entire planets to hide in, in bunkers and buildings guarded by Imperial Storm Troopers, enclosed in encrypted data-files which could only be accessed by authorised droids. Planets were linked by hyperspace pathways, which in turn could be accessed via star ships, to which only Harry had the command codes for.

His defences were perhaps overkill, but frankly Harry didn't really understand what he was doing, as far as he was concerned it was pretty cool to have a whole universe in his head. In a distant part of his mind however, a dead world oozed malevolence. The red planet, of a most vile nature sent out a call, a call of the dark side, a call of the dead.

Perhaps, his defences weren't overkill after all.

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><p>AN: A cookie for the people who can guess which planet that is (I'm sure everyone can guess who it represents at least.) and if anyone can tell me why the format of the fanfic looks a bit weird I'd love that!


	3. War, War Never Changes

Disclaimer: Same as always

AN: Ok so, Wow first off, I want to thank the reivews and such that I had for chapter 2, even though they were very so long ago. I actually didn't expect anyone to be interested in this story at all, especially considering I never really viewed it much more than a way to be able to beta other peoples stories. Your comments have all been really nice and I'm humbled that I was even likened to Douglas Adams by user Lotta Devon, and while I respectfully disagree I'm such a poor writer I don't think Im anything like him, it was a wonderful thing to read. That being said, there's a lot been going on that has meant I've not been able to maintain this how I wanted to, and especially considering how people seem so into it, even though it was so long ago, I felt really bad leaving it to drop off. So while this chapter isnt anything special at all, I wanted to start writing again, so please as always. Be kind. Thanks in advance.

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><p>Harry stirred, that bridge between sleep and reality caving under his feet. Harry blinked blearily, wiping the night's sleep from his eyes. Gaining his bearings he flailed his arm out, his hand trying, in vein, to find his glasses. Harry Potter: Defeater of Voldemort, Chosen one, and all-round super awesome bloke, fell off his bed in a pile of limbs and embarrassment.<p>

Breathing deeply as if to stave off what was coming, he awaited the shriek of his Aunt with trepidation, "Three...two...one..." he whispered under his breath. Right on time the wail of "POTTER, WHAT ARE YOU DOING UP THERE YOU UNGREATFUL WRETCH, GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!" reached his now damaged ears. A long suffering sigh and a quick "YES AUNT PETUNIA" was hollered back. Scratching the back of his neck and grabbing some clothes and his elusive glasses, he made his way out of his room and down the stairs.

"Things are going to change boy." His Uncle all but growled at him as he reached the bottom landing. "Good Morning to you too Uncle" was Harrys' quick witted, and quickly regretted reply. Wincing slightly as his Uncles face changed a shade, Harry made to move to the kitchen, but was stopped by a bark from Vernon. "Change, Boy. I've had it with you and your freaks, my Sister, my good, kind Sister is in prison, while you, you and your unnaturalness, flounce around MY home. Well no more boy, no more. Contact your freaks; tell them you're no longer wanted here. They can deal with you; I wash my hands of you." Harrys' gaze switched to his aunt, who wore a gleeful smile, her eyes full of malice.

Swallowing, and not trusting his voice Harry ran back upstairs and began to pack, the conversation playing through his head. Stuffing as much as he could into his trunk, he went to the hidden cache of treasures from under the floorboards all the while fighting with his panic induced shaking limbs. "I know I hate it here Hedwig but I never thought they'd actually kick me out. What am I going to do? Where will I go?" Breathing heavily Harry tried to center himself, attempting to stifle his emotions was not as easy today as it had been last night.

He bolted upright, "SIRIUS!" he proclaimed, "I could stay with Sirius!" grabbing a pen and some paper Harry quickly jotted out a letter to Remus and Sirius explaining that he had nowhere to go, and that he had been kicked out of the Dursley Residence. "Quickly girl, get this to Sirius or Remus as quick as you can." he said while opening the rooms only window, and unlocking her cage. Hedwig stretched her wings and flew off into the sky, Harry not waiting to watch her disappear began again with his packing.

It wasn't long before he was fully packed and ready to depart when the doorbell rang, and a shout from his Uncle: "BOY, get down here and bring your things, I'll not have you loitering in this house any longer than you have to." Grabbing his trunk and jolting out the door, eager to see his Godfather again after so long, Harry caught the fleeting sight of his Aunt Petunia, looking white as a sheet as she retired further into the house. Putting it out of his mind, Harry made to the door, smile on his face, which quickly fell to a frown as he realised it wasn't his Godfather or even Remus, but Snape who stood at the entrance.

The greasy haired man was wearing his trademark sneer although for once was not aiming at the boy-who-fails-at-potions, but at his Aunt Petunia. "Always a ...pleasure Tuney, come along Potter we don't have all day." His black beady eyes quickly snapped to Harrys', and with a flourish, he made his way down the well kept lawn of Number Four Privet Drive, scion Potter in tow. An extended arm and one hurried Apparate later and Harry Potter stood in-front of the eclectic house that was The Burrow.


End file.
